I love San Francisco, and I really love the San Francisco Writers Conference. It’s not the fine food and stellar accommodations, it’s not the rubbing of elbows with the glitterati of the literati. It’s not even the infectious positive energy that seems to be exuding from everyone’s pores. Nope. This is the one weekend of the year when I receive a much needed kick in the pants.
Lisa See was the luncheon speaker the other day. Her talking points regarding the life of a writer really hit home. Key among them is something I’ve constantly heard. “A thousand words a day.”
Seems like a simple thing to do, but it’s not. Well, it is, but if you’re a world class procrastinator like I am, you can find at least a thousand and one reasons to put off the daily write.
I’m old. I have limited time to devote to writing, and I should make use of that time judiciously. Consider me sufficiently mentally flogged.
This is why I’m up at 4 a..m. writing.
Not really. I’m up at 4 a.m. because I’m still on Michigan time. And because after four days of rushing up and down stairs at the conference and navigating the streets of San Francisco (also up and down, talk about a workout), I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. Despite my sore muscles and droopy, jet-lagged eyelids, once I post this, I’m going to get busy. Again.
So thank you, Lisa See.